Peace In Our Time
by automatic-badgirl
Summary: Spike Becomes A Rock Star!


The sun rose over Sunnydale like the red and brooding eye of a deranged drunk. The rugose and somehow evil light pierced the window of Buffy Summers' bedroom with spears of malevolent pointiness. She stretched her tanned and luxuriously nude and vanilla scented body, lolling like some great golden vanilla cat. Then she awoke.  
  
Her hazel orbs glittered with unshed tears as she recalled her dream. She had been dreaming about Angel, her heart's own true love and her loin's own true soulmate. Sadly it had only been the one time, but despite how many, many, many times she bumped uglies with Spike in recent years, her divine cleft was somehow aware of the difference, and the multiple orgasms she had with her undead platinum lover were strangely unfulfilling. Just then Dawn burst into her room.  
  
"O!" she uttered. Then she gave forth another tiny scream, sort of a screamlet actually.  
  
"O!O! Buffy!" She screamleted.  
  
She stamped her foot in a fit of adorable feminine pique and tossed a sheet of her rippling, shimmering, incredible shiny hair. The resulting gleam of said hair was so resoundingly bright that from it bounced a reflection so strong that it caused the pilot of a small plane passing overhead to be momentarily blinded, and crash.  
  
Buffy threw up a hand to block her great gleaming hazel orbs from the glare from Dawn's hair and said through gritted teeth,  
  
"What?"  
  
"Spike has joined a Rock band! It's a spell! I just know it has to be an evil, evil spell!" Then Dawn surreptitiously pocketed a vanilla flavored lipgloss from Buffy's vanity.  
  
Buffy's mouth filled with warm drool at the mention of Spike's name and she was filled with a moments instant lust that passed when she recalled her one true love for Angel, and truth be told slight curiosity about Faith. Dawn interrupted the horny train of thought that was beginning to link boxcars in the depraved junctions of Buffy's mind.  
  
"You never listen to anything I say. I hate you! Get out! Getoutgetout!"  
  
"But this is my room." The blonde Slayer pointed out.  
  
Dawn flounced off to steal the hubcaps from the neighbor's car. She was a very troubled girl. She rudely brushed past Willow, the witch, who also was troubled with a magic addiction but seemed to be getting better. As Willow made her way into Buffy's room, she gazed upon the gilded satin that comprised the Slayer's honey-hued skin and felt a twinge of lust for her friend. The faint scent of vanilla made her mouth water. She naughtily wondered if all of Buffy smelled and tasted like vanilla. A cute blush pinked her scrubbed and shining cheeks.  
  
"What's up with Dawn?"  
  
"Spike joined a rock-band, Dawn thinks it's because of an evil spell."  
  
At the mention of the word spell, Willows eyes turned dead black with evil and she spoke in a really, really scary voice.  
  
"It is a spell, just not my spell, my spell will cause the end of the world, that's how terribly evil my spell is, why my spell is sooooo bad and naughty that--"  
  
Just then Xander broke in clutching a yellow crayon.  
  
"Will No! It's the First! The First has you under it's control with a trigger word like Spike's song! Fight it Willow! He stopped for a minute to admire the lithe and tanned limbs of Buffy as she clambered out of bed and threw on a bathrobe, so did Willow actually. The Dark witch stopped her evil, veiny ranting long enough to gaze upon the gilt perfection of her friend. Xander used that momentary distraction to thrust the crayon into Willow's face.  
  
"Remember the yellow crayon Will? Do you remember this token of shattered innocence symbolic of our lives before you came over all gay and I began reacting to others with sarcastic and witty remarks that act as a shield for my secret belief that I'm not really good enough....or is this a bad time what with all the scary, black-eyed raving, you're doing."  
  
Willow began to weep brokenly and Xander went to her, to comfort her. Buffy was touched by the tender scene and trembled like the newly born deer calf that had slid shuddering from the womb into Willow's arms so that the shattered Wiccan at her feet could sacrifice it in order to bring her back from the warm and peaceful comfort of heaven, which was almost as perfect as the safe haven of Angel's arms but not quite. She turned to go as she had to pee.  
  
To her surprise she encountered Faith in the bathroom. The Dark! Slayer was looking at her prison tattoos in the mirror over the sink. Buffy noticed with irritation that the Dark! Slayer had knocked her vanilla scented body lotion on the floor. She picked it up and regarded the other girl with her hands cocked on her sublimely sculpted hips, which were a little more "jutty" as of late because she hadn't been eating right what with all the Apocalypsing and Spike-shagging. A pout formed on her lovely pink cushioned mouth, like a stain on some divine suede sofa.  
  
"Faith" She said, and waited. And waited. Sometimes, she thought, she aggravates me yet I am strangely drawn to her dark complexity. I think her tough-girl thing is all an act hiding the scared little girl inside.  
  
"Nope B. I'm tough as nails but gentle on hands. I've checked myself, B and I'm Five by Five. Hows by you? Roger Wilco over and out."  
  
"How did you know what I was thinking?" The golden Slayer was stunned into silence, well after speaking that was.  
  
"Oh I'm not really here...seven three-o Miles to Go and ALL. THAT. JAZZ." The Dark! Slayer fluttered her fingers showing her "Spirit Hands" to Buffy.  
  
"Oh this is a dream sequence! Got it."  
  
"Keee-rect! So Nanu-Nanu B. ole' buddy. To fight the First you must not give into to the dark side, because hate leads to anger and anger leads to comas. And I should know...B. That's one to grow on, and learning is half the battle. B."  
  
She tipped Buffy a saucy wink and went back to examining her tats in the mirror. She wasn't wearing a shirt anymore and Buffy was started to enjoy this dream sequence.  
  
"Nice Tattoos, Faith."  
  
"De plane, De plane Boss!" Faith smacked herself in the face. "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw B., I hate this fucked-up arty shit! But yeah the tattoos B. They are pretty wicked. Y'know B. my friends in prison C. and D. did 'em for me. Too bad my friends E. and F. got shivved before they could draw theirs' on me."  
  
Buufy wandered out of the bathroom leaving the vision of the Dark! Slayer whistling "Lydia the Tattooed Lady" behind her.  
  
She met Spike in the kitchen, morosely brooding over a packet of instant cocoa. His delectable mouth was framed by his sculpted cheekbones that were like gorgeous parenthesis's. His white blonde hair gleamed in the indirect sunlight that streamed in through the kitchen window and didn't seem to be bothering him much at all really, even though vampires and sunlight are like un-mixy things.  
  
"Buggardly, bloody, bollocky, flippin' 'ell. I miss yer Ma's bleedin' hot cocoa pet..."  
  
"What's all this about you being a rock star?"  
  
"Wot? Oh Spit! Luv, s'nuthin' I'm just dead sexy and thought 'S'truth! E's a blooming rock star E is"  
  
"What?!" She frowned prettily for indeed she could do nothing in a coarse or vulgar way, not even raunchy Barbeque sauce flavored monkey-sex with Spike.  
  
"Lissen Pet-luv I just come over all rock star-ish this morning and thought, why not! Now luv, don't go all shirty and stroppy. Bob's yer uncle and What's all this then...Evening' copper."  
  
Buffy strained (in a dainty and pretty way) to understand Spike's "occasionally Cockney" (TM pending) accent.  
  
"So you are going to be a Rock star, okay...Wha-huh now?"  
  
"It's true and we're in love and we're going to get married!" Buffy turned at the sound of that familiar shrieky voice and saw Dawn march proudly into the kitchen and throw her arms about Spike's waist. He grinned sheepishly and squinted against the glare from Dawn's hair.  
  
"Sorry pet, you're a right fun bird you are, but you're using me and that's no good for me self esteem like, so I thought I'd hook up with the Bit here...Niblet where's me smokes?"  
  
"Here. Here they are..." Dawn thrust a package of cigarettes at Spike. Buffy could tell they were obviously stolen.  
  
"Cor! Ta Bitty-Mc Bitster. You're so much cooler than yer big sister." he hugged her to him.  
  
"You know this is a spell right? This isn't real?" They ignored her and gazed deep into one another's eyes. Buffy thought they might kiss so she spun on her delicate heel, and left in a cloud of vanilla scented fury.  
  
She must find Gile's he'd fix this up and it was only natural she'd turn to him as her own father was a dead beat and he was English and the English were good at fixing things. Like that Chamberlain guy...  
  
End of part one. 


End file.
